


Broken Bride

by Supernaturalkinji



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Broken Bride, Dream Sex, Ludo - Freeform, M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-26 20:40:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1701833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supernaturalkinji/pseuds/Supernaturalkinji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles is the victim of a terrible accident. When Erik cannot abandon his grief, he discovers he has two choices. Die along with Charles. Or Save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Erik discovers he is human.

                      At Charles’ funeral, May 9th 1989, Erik Lehnsherr was nowhere to be found. The day was somber, of course, in spite of the bright, warm weather. It was perhaps the nicest day Westchester had seen in some 6 months. Of course, it had to be this day that saw such amazing weather. Those surrounding the grave were silent as the Professor’s body was laid to ground. There were tears and some, Hank included, wished that the sky would reflect their emotions and weep with them.

                   Hank let out a snarl of anguish when they began to fill the grave. The students started at the noise and their shared grief was reflected in the echoes of that cry. Raven, Mystique, laid down a branch of white geranium. She let her tears fall after the flower as she watched the fertile earth cover and hide its beauty. She wanted to shrink into herself but she remained strong. For Erik, who could not be there. For the students, who needed someone to look to and also for herself. She had lost so many people in her life. She didn’t know if she could come back from the chasm of her agony if she allowed herself to feel this. Perhaps she could. However, her heart was tight and breaking and it took all of her will to not fall with the pieces of her loved one.

  
                  The day continued and after all the services, the students meandered back to the school. The day remained bright, warm and perfect. They all cursed it in its joy and for the remainder of the day, they sat in somber silence. The occasional cry would reverberate through the hall. It was the cry of one who had lost more than a mentor or a friend, but a lover. The children ignored the cry.  
                 

                 Erik was in the basement of the mansion, sitting in Charles’ wheelchair. He slumped his shoulders after letting out such a forlorn shout. His throat ached and he could tell that a vessel had popped in his eye; his vision became clouded in one eye. His tears flowed down his aged face and he could only weep now. He had let out his emotions and could only feel now. Feel morose, feel empty, dead. His lover had been killed and he could only relive those moments over and over until finally he imploded into an uncontrollable hunk of useless mutant. He barely had his powers under control and on occasion, he felt the pipes and foundation rumble.  
When he closed his eyes, he could see Charles, lying in the road, glass surrounding him, his body bent unnaturally.  
Gasping and panting, Erik opened his eyes. His heart traveled to his throat and he wanted to let out another gush of emotions. He couldn’t, though. He couldn’t because his voice was lost. His tears stained his clothing, dripped into the wheel chair and soaked into the fabric. He silently wept until he fell asleep, against his will. He hadn’t slept since Charles had died. He didn’t want to sleep.  


_Erik arrived at the accident scene and pushed the other vehicle out of the way. He didn’t know or care what happened to the other driver. What he cared about was Charles. He had been on his way to find a new youth. He was so excited to use the new handicap van. It had been retrofitted just for him, after all. When he saw the van, Erik felt as though he had been punched. The driver’s side door was caved in; all of the windows were shattered. The suspension was off, with the wheels sticking out in the wrong direction. And Charles. Erik ripped the door off of its hinges and Charles tumbled from the wreckage. He was gone. Picking the glass and metal from his legs, his head and arms, Erik knew that he had been died on impact. His neck was broken._

_Almost not realizing what he was doing, Erik let out such an angry, guttural sound, throwing back his head and his hands out that the surrounding vehicles crushed in on themselves. The offending vehicle, driven by a child, probably no older than 16, sat where he had pushed it. Erik approached it and ripped the hood off. The child was still alive. He bared his teeth, sucking them in frustration and absolute terror. He had lost himself. He killed that child. He saw him moving and heard a cough and he caused the metal of the vehicle to slowly, painfully inch its way inward. He trapped the child in the vehicle with the seat belt, not allowing him to escape his fate. If his beloved was gone, this child did not deserve life either, he reasoned. Blood pooled from the vehicle around its tires and a voice in Erik’s ear brought him out of his murderous, white hot fury._ Enough, my friend. _He could have sworn it was Charles, whispering to him to stop. He turned abruptly to look at his lover, hope bright in his eyes until he noticed he had not moved. Those around him stood in fear and his lover lay dead._

_“Charles?” he whispered, hoping to get a response from the lifeless corpse of his friend. There was no response. The voice in his ear must have been in his imagination, he reasoned and he fell to his knees next to the still warm body of his most important companion. When the police and paramedics arrived, both drivers were deceased and the driver of the handicapped van was nowhere to be found. A pool of blood and glass could be seen where his body had lain. Erik was above them, carrying Charles, cradling him like a child._

                Hank had to slap Erik to rouse him. He was shaking the house, scaring the children and setting off alarms. He had to stop this somehow. Erik groaned and brought a hand up to his cheek. It stung more than he was willing to admit as he felt a warm trickle of blood fall. He was dazed, confused and he could feel the pang of dehydration brought on through days of continuous crying.

              “You lost control again,” Hank said, as if that explained the need to slap with claws drawn. Erik supposed that it did.

              “I apologize,” he sleepily drawled. He didn’t realize he had fallen asleep. “Can you make me something so that I don’t dream?”

               Hank balked. He could, of course. But he knew how dangerous it could be. He offered to make a temporary solution. One that would allow him to sleep dreamlessly but explained that it would not last. The supply that he gave was all he would get. The other nodded and could feel his eyelids falling again. He let out a low cry.

              “I don’t want to see this again,” he murmured. He was too exhausted, however, to stay awake. Hank let out a roar and pounced on Erik. He knocked him out of Charles’ wheelchair in one fell swoop. His teeth bared and a growl rumbling in his throat, Hank pinned Erik.

                 “You will not cause all that Charles built to be destroyed due to your grief. Stay awake until that serum is done.” Erik had never heard Hank sound so angry, so aggressive. He nodded solemnly, allowing Hank to pull them both to their feet.

~~*~~

                 The serum that Hank made had to be taken in small doses. To make sure that it lasted. It would only allow dreamless sleep for 4-5 hours at a time but that was all Erik truly needed. The school continued on with Hank and others running it. They didn’t dare go into the basement. Erik worked and slept there. They didn’t know what he was working on and when Hank had attempted to find out, Erik had sealed the door shut with his power. The only times anyone saw Erik was when he allowed them to or when he was hungry.

                  Erik was never strong in math, so this was taking longer than he had anticipated. The stock of serum that Hank had given him was almost completely depleted and Erik recalled Hank saying he would only make it for him once. He pined still for Charles and when he closed his eyes, he tried to see the Charles he knew before the accident. He was able to recall him in his youth, with his untidy locks and his wit. He longed to go back to that time. The ache of his age caught up to him in his weariness. Youthful, live Charles slipped from his mind and he began to see snippets of the accident. The blood and twisted metal. He opened his eyes and began to search for the serum that Hank had made. He took the amount recommended and then doubled it. He hunkered into Charles’ chair; it no longer smelled like him. That killed him. His heart tore and he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

               When he awoke, he kept up his work. He attempted to concentrate. That chair, however, was distracting. His power would reach out to it, move it toward him. He could feel it, of course. What he was doing. Somewhere in his subconscious, he could feel it. But when he noticed that the chair was moving closer to him, enticing him to sit, to sleep, he began to panic. He was not a young man anymore. His heart raced painfully and his breath caught in his chest. Fearing a heart attack, he opened the doors and activated an alarm. When his vision faded, he saw a familiar blue face looking down on him, unreadable.

 _Erik_.

               Erik let out a low grumble. He shifted, and like a cat, rubbed his eyes.

 _Erik_.

              Erik wanted to tell him to go away. He was comfortable where he was.

_Erik, you must let me go._

               I can’t, he wanted to say. His body was heavy. It must have been something powerful.

_Hank, of course. He is very good._

            Erik shifted again. He couldn’t open his eyes and the weight on his chest was unbearable. It didn’t feel like death. No, it felt like something else. It was hard to breath with that overwhelming pressure. He didn’t know what to call it.

             Guilt.

              No, not guilt. Why should he be guilty? He struggled at the feeling and then felt a prick. Warmth swam through his body. He was floating, flying, like he used to. The pressure was still there. Dim, but present. When he finally landed again, Erik wasn’t sure how much time had passed. He woke in the medical ward of the basement. A needle stuck in his arms with what he could only assume was much needed fluids. His mouth felt like cotton and he was tempted to smack his lips to banish the feeling. His head pounded but not from what he would think. He felt as though he was cut off from something. He couldn’t put his hands on it, but he knew something was missing. Something he had always had. The needle itched mercilessly; when was the last time they had changed it?

              Erik waved a wrinkled hand in an attempt to remove the needle. Nothing happened. His heart began to beat fast and he heard the monitor increase frantically. “Please calm down, Erik,” Hank’s voice purred. “It’s the IV. We had to temporarily block your powers. Can’t have you bring down the mansion.”

             “Take it out,” Erik croaked. His throat hurt. His head felt like it was splitting, like it was reaching for something.

               Hank looked down on Erik with a curious expression. Almost as if he was hesitating. He knew, of course, how powerful Erik was. “I will wean you off of it,” Hank said slowly. “I fear that if I took you off of it now, you would destroy us all. And then where would we be?”

               He meant it as a joke, of course. “With Charles,” was the serious response he received. Hank felt his heart jump to his throat. He glanced at the old man with pity. He could only fix the IV before leaving Erik to his thoughts

               “What was wrong with me?” Erik called after him.

               “Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy,” Hank murmured before the door slid shut behind him. Erik turned his head to the side. He, of course, had no idea what that meant. He did, however, wish that Hank hadn’t saved him.

~~*~~

                 It took some time to wean Erik off of whatever Hank had put him on. The less he had, the less his head hurt. Which he supposed was good. But he was still in pain. He worked meticulously, without powers, to build a circuit board. It was no mean feat. His hands shook and trembled with the effort, or perhaps it was with age. He couldn’t decide which and he wasn’t sure he cared. When he had finished with that, he moved on to wiring the rest of his project. Slowly, he began to be able to screw with his powers. That almost took more effort, though. He was beaded with sweat in no time. He eventually noticed that the dreams while on this treatment were bearable. He was able to sleep through the night with only flashes. He didn’t destroy anything when it happened either.

                 But he knew he had to make a choice. The dreams or his ability. He was so reliant on his powers that it hurt him to even have to make that choice. Each time he ran his hands through his hair and felt the calluses, he was amazed. He knew what hard work was like. His entire life had been hard work. This, however, this was gratifying. Erik was working towards a goal with his own two hands and he believed it was the only goal worth having.

                 When he was finally off of the treatment fully, he began to fear his dreams. They were new this time. This time, he would go to Charles’ garden grave, hidden behind the Wisteria trees, and lay down with him. He didn’t know how or why the grave had been dug up, but he didn’t care. He would hold those cold bones, slowly letting his life slip away. The cooling space inside his chest became heavy in the dream and as he cuddled the bones of his fallen lover, comrade and friend, he would die. The dream ended with his death and subsequently, it ended with Erik waking up in a cold sweat. The first night he had this dream, he walked to Charles’ grave and lay on top of it, sleeping the rest of the night on the cold hard ground. When he was found, he was put into the hospital wing again for two days. “It may not be snowing, but sleeping outside in February is never a good idea,” Hank said.

                  He knew better now, at least. When he went out to see Charles, he would bring thick furs and blankets. Erik figured that it would be better to be with Charles and sleep like a Neanderthal than to be alone in the basement. It had been almost 5 years before Erik could no longer stomach leaving the basement. He would mutter that he was almost finished. One more. One more item. He was just missing one thing.

                  Hank had since left the school. So had the students. They hated to abandon what Charles had built, truly they did. The forlorn atmosphere made it almost impossible to live there, however. Erik didn’t notice. He had all that he needed in the basement. On occasion, someone would drop fresh food off, taking the rotted food away. They knew he was eating. Just not enough, it would appear. Erik didn’t seem to notice the passing of time, nor that he no longer had visitors to help him keep his sanity. He had long since run out of Hank’s serum. Now, he slept in fits. He discovered that, at one point, he had caused wing of the home to collapse by crushing the piping and metal work. He wasn’t sure he cared, until he realized Charles’ room was in that wing. After learning that, he worked with renewed vigor.

                   On May 8th 2004, Erik finished his project. It was a pod, of sorts. Long, thin and circular, the pod looked no more distinct than a pipe. It was sleek, not too conspicuous. He could easily place it in the shadows, the garden, anywhere, and have it blend into the surroundings. Stepping inside, he was pleased to see what he had done. The lights, the screens and all of the other knick knacks blared to life as he stepped inside. He flipped a switch and heard a purr.  
“Finally, Charles,” his voice shook with age. He reached a gnarled hand out and flipped another switch, closing the smooth door afterwards. “I can save you.”  
He inputted the date, May 7th 1989, and hit another button. The machine screeched at him, shaking and trembling. It was almost as if the machine fought him. With a show of power, Erik slammed his fist onto the board and let out a guttural yell.

                   “Go, you blasted machine,” he was almost too desperate. The machine lurched to life and Erik saw rather than felt what was happening. The machine pulled and stretched. It was almost as if the earth was struggling against itself. Finally, everything began to dissolve. The machine first, then Erik glanced at himself. He couldn’t make a sound. It wasn’t that his heart was in his chest or that he was short of breath. Rather, he was simply being chocked by the gravity of his machine. When he finally crashed to the floor of the pod, he was gasping and trembling. His hands rubbed his arms in circular motions and through the crack in the door; he could see a familiar light. The sun was bright, as it had been the night before. Erik smiled at how clever he was. When he reached out to open the door, Erik paused. His hands were foreign to him. Strong, smooth.  
Now that he thought about it, his arms had been thicker too. Stronger. His chest began to rise and fall rapidly. He was younger! But how much? He could barely see himself in the smooth metal of the pod and decided to finally push the door open.

                  He was greeted by a pterodactyl.


	2. In which Erik befriends a most unlikely creature.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik has discovered that his machine is unreliable, that the theory of evolution was, of course, true and that dinosaurs existed. All in about the space of one minute.

                Erik sucked in his teeth. He was so shocked by the appearance of this creature that he couldn’t move. It wasn’t looking at him, luckily. It was merely sitting by a felled tree. It looked malnourished, though Erik couldn’t have honestly said what it should have looked like. Sharp ribs protruded from brown, leathery flesh. He could count the sharp vertebra as it jutted from its flesh. He wasn’t certain if he was imagining the beating of its heart through the thin flesh, or perhaps he was just projecting the pounding of his own heart. The beast shifted on its wings and its tail whipped around, snapping some twigs and small trees. The sheer strength it showed in that one movement terrified Erik and he could only think of escape. He wasn’t certain what happened with his machine, what type of error he made when he activated it, but he merely wanted to rectify it.               

                There was a loud snuffing and then a keen. The pterodactyl turned its large head and the slitted eye gazed at Erik curiously. He was clearly different and the pod behind him was surely foreign. Through the leathery flesh of its maw, Erik could see bared teeth. Hunger seemed to be outweighing curiosity and the massive creature let out a horrendous cry before shifting itself toward Erik. Erik reached out with his power, searching for precious metals, something aside from his pod. He found nothing. Nothing he could use aside from his only escape. And that escape route would take too long. The beast lurched forward and Erik did the only thing he could think of; he ran.

                His feet pounded on the moist, unfamiliar earth, kicking up clods and grass. He saw a cave approaching fast, though he could also hear the shrieking cry of the beast behind him, gaining on him, attempting to take wing. Perhaps it was a good thing that this beast was so underfed; he would not have been able to have gone far otherwise.

                 The overgrown wildlife was almost too much for Erik to navigate through. His breath began catching in his throat as he hit the tall, thick trees and leaves that were almost the size of him. He had to bat them out of the way and lamented how the action took more energy than he had to spare. The leaves were heavy, almost impossibly so. His feet began to catch in the wet dirt, roots coming out of nowhere to trip him. He fumbled into the cave quite literally just in the nick of time. The beast’s head struck the face of the cliff in which the cave lay, the small mountain trembling at the force and small rocks loosing themselves and falling near Erik. He moved back as far as the cave would allow to escape the snapping, foaming maw that chased him inside the entrance.

                   Erik’s heart was beating too fast, his lungs burning. He longed for the comfort of that familiar touch to get rid of some of this fear. The sun, almost impossibly bright in the sky, began to set and the beast ended its struggle. Blood lined the sides of the cave from where its maw had scraped the sides and torn the tender flesh. A pitiful cry echoed through the valley as the beast struggled to take wing and fly somewhere else. The pounding in his chest stopped feeling as though his heart was attempting to beat out of him and he leaned back against the jagged wall of the cave. He needed water, and food, but at this exact moment, what he wanted was sleep. After all, in sleeping you can dream. And dreams always seemed to be the place where Charles found Erik.

                   Taking his jacket and placing it beneath his head, Erik closed his eyes and slowly slipped off. It wasn’t long until he was engulfed in a warm dream. The familiar red glow of a bird in the distance, squawking happily. The white emptiness of the dream faded into a room that Erik had visited many times. The deep oak and mahogany of the furniture and reds of the rugs brought tears to his dreaming eyes. He laid on the comfortable bed and stretched out, enjoying the feel of the lush fabrics and firm mattress. Next to him, a body shifted. Erik smiled kindly and pulled back the cover.

                   Charles was young again, curled into a ball. His hair was swept across his face and Erik couldn’t help but lay a kiss on the furrowed brow. Charles let out a low, happy moan and one eye opened.

                 “Hello, love,” Charles murmured sleepily. He stretched like a cat, one hand coming up to rub at his sleep filled eyes and his other coming above his head. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he reached for Erik’s hand. He grasped at Erik’s wrist and gave a little squeeze. Erik could feel his heart beating happily. This was so much better than what he was used to. He was more than happy to not see himself in Charles’ grave, snuggling with a decaying corpse.

                  “You seem sad, Erik,” Charles sat up against the headboard. “What is wrong, darling?”

                   Erik simply shook his head and leaned down, giving Charles a loving kiss. His stubble brushed against Charles’ smooth flesh and he could feel Charles chuckle at that. He had always loved that. He deepened the kiss, sucking at his lips and bringing a hand up to stroke his cheek and brush back the other’s long hair. His fingers laced into the locks that fell at the base of Charles’ neck and griped them firmly, tugging slightly. Charles let out a low moan and opened his mouth slightly. Erik took advantage of this and snuck his tongue into the kiss, moving in Charles’ mouth slowly, delicately. He could feel Charles shiver beneath him and make happy, low noises. Erik ran his hand from the back of Charles’ head down the nape of his neck and around his shoulder. He rubbed the muscles he found there and removed his mouth from Charles.

                “Oh, I have missed you,” Erik whispered. He nuzzled Charles’ neck lovingly, kissing down it until he reached the other’s clavicle. He nipped at it and then began to suck. He could feel Charles shudder in pleasure and confusion under him.

                 “I’ve been right here,” Charles murmured. “Always right here, my friend.” Charles had placed a hand on Erik’s chest, over his heart.

                  Erik groaned and leaned down into Charles. “Don’t be romantic now, Charles. Not now,” he said painfully.

                  “If not now, when?” Charles chuckled.

                   Erik didn’t answer. He merely gazed into those deep, thoughtful eyes and attempted to convey as much emotion through thought as he possibly could. There seemed to be an absence of that warm, comfortable presence Erik was used to in the back of his mind when he was with Charles.

                  “Charles,” Erik said. “Why can’t I feel you in my mind?”

                   There was silence.

                  Charles was still there, thoughtful and flushed. He turned over in bed, his legs shifting.

                  “You can feel me, Erik,” Charles finally said. “This entire thing, this is me. Erik, I am always with you. Always.”

                  Erik felt his chest clenching. It felt as though his heart had lept into his throat. He fought back the tears that threatened to fall and he leaned forward to give another kiss. Charles responded lovingly, moving up to snatch Erik down, trying to get him to lay on top of him. Erik could only comply, moving beneath the blanket and between Charles’ legs. He smiled into the kiss and felt a tear fall down his cheek. He let it, let Charles feel it on his over-hot skin. Charles sighed into the embrace, moving his legs so that they surrounded Erik. Erik hitched one up, squeezing the muscles of Charles’ thigh, stroking up and down.

                  Charles let out a low moan and Erik could do nothing but bury his head into the pillow next to him. He couldn’t control himself anymore and began to rub his growing erection against Charles. The friction drove him wild and he let out a shuddering sigh, his breath ragged. He could feel Charles grow stiff beneath him. Charles had turned his head so that his mouth was on Erik’s cheek and the stubble that grew there. He kissed and nipped at it, trying to get Erik to turn his head. Erik complied but not to kiss. He grasped at Charles’ jaw, jerking his head gently up. Biting and licking at any flesh he could reach, Erik growled into Charles’ neck.

                 “Please, Erik,” Charles moaned, his voice husky and low. His body language screamed that he wanted Erik to touch him. Erik could only comply and reach into Charles’ pajama bottoms, taking his erection out and rubbing it slowly as he took out his own cock. He rubbed them together and sucked at his teeth. The sensation was overwhelming and ever nerve in his body stood on end. The feeling of their heat rubbing together was almost too much, too soon. Erik had to stop moving and lower himself into a kiss to control the urge to come. Charles was panting beneath him, breath ragged and intense.

               “Don’t…” Charles murmured. “I’m so close.” Erik groaned into Charles’ clavicle and then began to move again, his hips undulating against Charles. He moved faster, taking their cocks into his hand to get more friction. Soon after, Charles came with a gasp, his seed coating his pajama top. Erik shuddered into his orgasm, painting his hand and Charles. It was intense and much needed. He could only collapse on top of his love and kiss him lightly.

                “I love you, Charles,” Erik whispered. “I love you more than I can say.”

                His voice shook and he could tell he was close to tears. It was embarrassing, of course, and he could only keep his head where it was. Charles wrapped his arms around Erik and kissed his moist hair.

                “I love you too, Erik. But you need to wake up now,” Charles said, his voice choking with emotion.

                Erik’s head shot up, eyes wide. “Wake up, love,” Charles said again, tracing the stubble on his cheek bone. “You must wake up.”

                Erik shook his head into that soft touch.

                “ERIK!”

~~*~~

                A noise inside the cave jerked Erik awake. His eyes opened quickly and he sat up, his back complaining about the angle he had been at. He looked for the source of that sound and finally looked down to find himself face to face with a baby dinosaur. He couldn’t say what type it was, but if there was a baby, there would be a mother. And he could not be there, weaponless, when it came. It didn’t look fierce, but he knew better than to say that it wasn’t.

                The dino was turning its head so that it could see Erik better. Its pupils were circular, eyes placed on each side of its head. Reason told Erik that meant it was a leaf eater. When it opened its mouth to let out a pitiful cry, Erik saw square, flat teeth. Definitely a leaf eater. It leaned its neck up to place its head on Erik’s knee. Confused, Erik looked around. There was nothing in the cave aside from the two of them. The jagged rocks were still covered in blood, though it was now well dried. He wondered absently how long he had been asleep but couldn’t say for certain. It felt like an eternity but also not quite long enough. He could have slept forever if it meant staying in bed with Charles.

                The light outside the cave was dim, but Erik couldn’t say what time of day it was. The sky was very different in this era. He wasn’t quite sure he was technically safe to be here. Science was never his forte. How thin was the Ozone? How extreme the radiation of the sun? He wanted to lift his pod to him, but he was having difficulty controlling his ability. He could locate the pod, of course, but he had to concentrate to bring it closer. He was not used to so little metal and it frightened him. Another piteous cry snapped him out of his reverie. The baby dino still had its head in Erik’s lap, its mouth open, clearly desparate.

                “I am not your mother,” Erik said quietly. The beast cocked its head and cried again. “I don’t know what you want.”

                The head moved and there was a damp spot on his pants where it had been. Erik wiped it and felt the thick, goopy residue that left there. Another cry was emitted from the beast and it sat back on its haunches into a cracked egg. Of course, Erik thought, glancing around, taking in his surroundings more. He had stumbled into some sort of nest!

                But the only egg that was in sight was this one. There was dirt, hard and dry, as well as dried grass on the rocky, uneven floor but no other unhatched eggs. The fragments he was able to locate appeared to have hatched days ago. This appeared to be the runt of the litter. The mother must have left this one behind, assuming that if it did not hatch then, it would not hatch. It made sense, he told himself. Survival of the fittest. The mother would not risk her life for this one, especially if that pterodactyl from earlier had friends.

                “Are you alone, little one?” Erik said quietly. The baby, of course, did not understand what he was saying. It merely crooned and placed his head back on Erik’s knee. “Are we together now, then? I can’t keep you. I must get back home.”

                The beast closed its eyes and crooned again, a strange purring noise. It was cute, endearing. The “puppy dog” eyes reminded him greatly of the look Charles had when he was begging Erik. Not anything inappropriate, mind. Just when he wanted something that made no sense for him to have. Such as that damned van. Erik’s mood took a negative, dark turn. He pushed the beast away and left the cave in search of something to eat. He carefully scanned the sky as well as the surrounding area, making sure there were no threats to his safety. Upon discovering that he was in no danger, Erik began his search. His stomach growled painfully and his muscles ached from the run and uncomfortable sleeping position.

                The baby dino followed behind him, making happy, squeaking noises. Erik shushed it, but of course, the creature didn’t know what that sound meant. It continued to stumble behind Erik and make its baby squeaks. Erik rolled his eyes and stopped, waiting for the creature to come to him. It clearly wasn’t going to leave him alone and he felt somewhat responsible for it. He couldn’t let it die because he found it annoying.

                “If you’re going to come, please shut up,” Erik said. At this point, he was only speaking to it to have someone to speak to. It was a one-sided conversation and it made him feel better. The dino stopped at a couple of plants on the way, sniffing and making “a face,” though Erik wasn’t sure what type of face that would be. He would move on from those plants and stop at others, repeating the process. He finally reached a bush that had leaves and fruits that seemed impossibly huge to Erik and made a happy, loud cry. It rushed forward and began to pull on a leaf, attempting to loose one of the plants. Erik reached up and plucked the fruit, which was very nearly the size of his face. He gave it to the baby and watched as it delightedly began to eat. The fruit itself resembeled a mix between an apple and a peach. Erik chanced it and took a fruit for himself, biting into the tender, juicy flesh. The nectar dribbled down his chin and he wiped his face on his sleeve.

                The taste was refreshing and sweet with a hint of bitter. It was almost too good and Erik decided he was good with simply this fruit for nourishment as he chanced his way back to his pod. The dino finished his fruit quickly and began to nibble on leaves and grasses. Erik couldn’t help but smile at the sweet sight. The dino was cute, even if he was annoying.

                “Come on, little one,” Erik said, gesturing for the beast to follow. The ground was much firmer than it had been the night before, which Erik was grateful for. The sun was almost too hot, however. He determined now that the sun had been rising, not setting, and as it loomed close to its zenith, Erik could feel the sweat bead and drip. It was uncomfortable and sweltering. After only twenty minutes of tracking his way back to the pod, Erik gave up and turned around. He marked his path with a sharp rock in the trees he passed and vowed to find water when he returned and had rested. The dino was still happily following him, though it was now quiet. It would occasionally stop and eat bits of plants. Erik would take what he could from them for himself and his own nourishment and continue on his way.

                When he arrived back at the cave, he could see meteors streaking through the sky. Of course, he told himself. They struck frequently during this time. He knew that much, at least. Charles was always very interested in this time and all of the different mutations that formed. Erik thought little of the meteors as he went back into his cool cave and sat where he had been before. He sat on his hard perch and the baby curled in its egg shell, falling asleep before long. Its breath came in a whistle and Erik figured he wouldn’t be able to get rid of the thing until he left this time. His bowls began to disagree with him and Erik wasn’t surprised. Man probably had never ingested a fruit like that and he went to find a safe place to releave himself.

                After finishing his business, Erik stood at the entrance of the cave, cool air on his back, heat on his front. It was an interesting sensation. He continued to watch the meteors fall and occasionally could track where one would strike. It became something of a pastime to him, and he could tell that hours had passed by the placement of the sun. It was only then that he noticed the small meteors appeared to be breaking off of something massive. There was a sinking in his gut and Erik made an exasperated cry. Of course he would be here on this date. He knew it wouldn’t strike near him but he only had so long before water and the blast from the impact would kill him and his new friend. Erik focused his power, reaching to the only metal on earth to drag and pull it to him. It was harder than anything he had ever experienced and he had to remember what Charles had said on that day so long ago.

                _The point between rage and serenity._ Erik could hear his friend and lover whisper this to him and he concentrated on the feeling of the dream he had before he had been awoken. The feeling of love and peace and lust and wanting. He drew on that and felt his power respond. He brought his pod to him with more ease and of course, that is when the malnourished pterodactyl noticed him once again. He looked more worse for wear and came lumbering slowly toward him. One wing appeared to be broken and he had fresh wounds and a gaping hole in its side. Of course, Erik fumed. He continued to pull the pod to him, quicker now, above the tall, almost ungodly tall trees. The baby came out, groggy and curious, its cry small and inquisitive.

                “No!” Erik cried to the creature. In the brief time they had been together, Erik had formed a bond with it. He cared for it, like he would for a pet or perhaps a child. The baby looked at the pterodactyl, who was still slowly lumbering to them. Erik could feel it shaking in fear against his leg and he growled at it. He told it to go back inside, forgetting that the thing didn’t know what he was saying. The baby huddled into Erik as it would its own mother, asking for protection through its frightened actions. Erik could only work faster to get the pod to him, though the fear was creeping up on him as well. He had no method to fight this beast.         

                Glancing at the baby beside him, he felt a twinge of guilt. This beast looked to him for comfort and guidance. He had become its mother, being the first thing it had seen, and he must leave it to die. He could not take it with him. It wouldn’t fit in the pod regardless, but he mustn’t take something like that into his time. Or 1989. Or anywhere.

                The pod came over the trees with a rush and Erik forced it into the cave, grasping at the baby and dragging him with him. The pterodactyl cried out in frustration as it lost its food. It wouldn’t last long, anyway. Nothing would. Erik grimaced at the thought and opened the pod. It sputtered to life and appeared to be having some sort of issue. The earth rocked beneath Erik’s feet and he glanced outside. There was an extraordinary light in the distance, where the impact took place. Swallowing back his fear, he hugged the baby tight. It, of course, did not understand the gesture and crooned softly.               

                Erik picked up a rock then, the sharpest he could find. He feared the machine would not warm up in time and he could only hope he could write a message during that time. To warn Charles. Or perhaps, merely just to write his name. He carved into the rough stone, realizing gratefully that it was very malleable. He pushed into and all he could write was _Charles_ before water began to rush into the cave. The ice caps had melted in the impact, he surmised. The baby began to shriek in fear and cower against Erik. It tore at his emotions, gazing at this baby and knowing it would die. He steeled himself, shoved the baby aside and rushed through the water that was rising almost too fast, and shut the door of his pod. It had finished warming up and Erik put in the proper date, again, and forced it to work. He punched the machine, swearing as he heard the piteous cries of his friend outside. He could hear it scramble against the machine and then against the rock cave walls. Tears pricked at his eyes.

                “To Charles,” he whispered. The machine pulled at him again. He feared death, it tore so ferociously. He appeared to be stretched almost too thin, as if he were rubber or clay. It was more painful than the first time, much more so. His lungs burned and he let out an exasperated cry, releasing the last of his precious air before slamming back into the earth. The machine sputtered and then shut down completely. Smoke rose from the controls and a fire started. Erik had time enough to leave the pod, shoving himself out of the door and into something he would never have expected.

                Erik had time enough to react, grasping at the metal around him. He thrust his hand forward and into the skull of something he had never seen before. It was moving, shambling towards him but he could tell it had been long dead. The metal tore through the skull and rent it from the thing’s head. He was certain at one point it had been human. Erik couldn’t tell how long ago that had been but the sight frightened him. He could smell the wires burning and turned his attention away from the dead. His machine was engulfed completely. How so much metal had caught fire so easily, Erik could not say, but he heard himself let out a cry that tore at his throat. He wished to rush forward, to pull the machine from the flames. He did not have time. More of those shambling things surrounded him and Erik’s fear began to creep up again. From one extreme to another, he thought shakily.

                “Fuckin zombies.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, if you haven't already, please check out Ludo's "Broken Bride." It is quite amazing and the influence for this little story.


	3. In which Erik dances with death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik seems to have found himself a tad in the future, a future riddled with zombies and familiar faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was entirely without beta. I apologise, loves.

“Fuckin’ zombies, man,” said a voice from Erik’s left. He turned cautiously, the voice registering as familiar. A blonde youth stood before him, hands empty and relaxed at his sides. His angular face was pulled back in a smirk and he nodded at Erik. He clearly didn’t notice the shocked look on Erik’s face, or if he did, he didn’t care.

                “On your right,” came another voice, slightly lighter than the last. Erik clutched at his chest, heart fluttering uncomfortably. This man was also a familiar face, black and muscular, with sharp, wide, attentive eyes. He wasn’t smiling and instead pointed to the ten deep horde of shambling horrors that continued to lumber toward them. The blonde put on an attractive grimace and balled his hands into fists. His muscles visibly tightened under his tattered shirt and jeans. He thrust his chest forward, a beam of molten hot plasma shooting forth into the crowd of the undead. Those that were not incinerated ran comically while burning. The youth smirked again and Erik seemed to remember the situation they were in. He held out his hand and sent metal scraps into the heads of the slow humanoid beings that had continued to approach him. They fell at his feet, the metal returning to his hand with a whistle. More approached over the ridge, these a little faster than their shambling cousins. With a twitch of his fingers, Erik sent the metal forth in long, thin, razor sharp blades, lopping off the heads of multiple undead in one fell swoop.

                The blonde whistled while the sharp eyed black man inhaled sharply. “Well, aren’t you useful,” the blonde said, not sarcastically. The other snorted and Erik turned again, the metal returning to his side, floating silently.

                “I try,” Erik replied dryly, earning a laugh and a thump on the back from the blonde.

                “I’m Alex,” he said with mirth. “And this ball of sunshine is Armando.”

                Erik nodded. The boys leaned in, Alex waving his hand in the universal sign of “your turn.” A bead of sweat dripped down Erik’s neck and he could feel his apprehension growing. They were the same people but not. Their mannerisms were similar, their looks, voices. Names. But this was wrong. They weren’t Havoc and Darwin. They couldn’t be.

                “Erik,” he said warily. His limbs sagged with the weight of his journey and the realization sunk in. “What is today’s date?”

                Armando arched an eyebrow. “May 4th, 2073,” his voice reflected his skeptical expression. When Erik felt his knees bow, he willed himself to stay standing, breath coming as shuddering gasps. He had gone too far back before and now he had gone too far forward. How long could he torture himself like this? He almost wished he had taken his own life when he had lost Charles. Or that Hank had let him die, let his heart fail him. Perhaps then none of this would be here. The undead, the desolation. At least that way, he told himself, he could be with Charles.

                With the smoldering wreckage of his machine crackling happily behind them and the moans of the once dead approaching slowly, the bows suggested they leave. Alex mentioned a base and Erik heard them, of course he did. It was a little muffled, distant, but he heard them. One doesn’t go completely deaf when in shock. One of the boys grasped his should in what he could only assume was meant to be a comforting gesture. He couldn’t explain to these strangers who bore familiar faces the deep sense of dread, regret and unfathomable loneliness he felt and had felt for fifteen years. He allowed them to lead him away, not noticing the concerned looks and words of encouragement he was given. For the first time in years, his thoughts were lost on his failures and the choices that had separated him and Charles for so long. He stumbled as he walked and jabbed his toes against a number of horrors before they reached a monstrous wall. Erik sort of came to himself as he recognized the ruins of the buildings to his sides and past the wall. He groaned and was given a quizzical look.

                “The last stronghold of mankind is in New York City?” he groaned out. There was chuckling from Darwin- no Armando- and an exasperated eye roll from Alex.

                “The last stronghold of America, not the world. Where have you been, Erik,” Armando said, his voice pitching at the end into a slightly higher not of annoyance.

                “Running with dinosaurs, actually,” Erik stated, not untruthfully.

                “Sure, and I’m human,” Armando bristled.

                “It’s not the last in the world. The world merely gave up on America as they implemented extreme measures to eradicate “undesirables.””

                Erik merely stared, his skin prickling. He was sure he knew what Armando meant and his old persona “Magneto” growled within him in protest. The sound resounded through his chest and the boys looked between themselves, sharing a look. It was clear they were confused at his general lack of knowledge about what had happened in the last 70 years. Erik only looked to be about 35, after all. Maybe a little older. Even with his accent (which they could not place), he would have been aware of some sort of situation in the U.S.

                “Undesirables,” he grated out. His righteous fury was growing and Erik was almost back to himself, his vision clearing and the almost crippling depression he had battled for 15 years replaced with the familiar desire to hurt, maim, and kill those who wronged his people.

                “Mutants,” Alex muttered. He had begun to give Erik a wide berth. It was obvious he was a tad wary of their new companion as the discussion continued. They were making slow progress toward the great wall that surrounded the city. The occasional zombie would stumble their way for something to eat but was quickly dissipated by a well-controlled blast or a stray bit of metal.

                Armando cleared his throat. “I don’t know where you’ve been, Erik, but you’ve missed…well, you’ve missed a lot. The government created a vaccine for dangerous mutants, designed for someone named “Magneto.” When he went missing in the 80s, they began using it on his cohorts. It killed them but it also seemed to feed on their mutation. Some of them came back and began to devour humans. They became zombies. The world governments had already abandoned America. They embraced their mutant citizens where America couldn’t. They said their methods were too radical.”

                There was a pause. Erik stared ahead as they continued to move. He was Magneto. He created this. The crushing weight of that thought and the guild threatened once again to overwhelm him and as he sliced through another undead, he recognized a physical mutation. A tail, long since decomposed, only peeking through the remnant of clothing. How many of the ones he had killed before had been mutants, he wondered.

                Armando continued, his voice shattering Erik’s train of thought. “America turned the mutant people into a new threat. AT first, when the humans were bitten, they would remain dead. But the thing that turned us into zombies fed on mutation and began mutating itself. Soon, it affected humans and mutant alike. We had a metallokinetic build a barrier around this section of the city as a stronghold. Our Mayor theorizes that the virus will eventually become airborne but so far we’re sage. There’s another stronghold that houses someone who claims to be the king. The mayor thinks he is controlling this…”

                “Bull shit. That’s the ramblings of an old man and that’s it,” Alex snorted.

                “Then why do they congregate at our walls, Alex?” Armando exclaimed, throwing his arms wide. “Explain that!”

                “We’re food. They’ve eaten everyone else. We’re all that’s left,” Alex said. His voice was tight, strained. He had lost someone out there, Erik could tell. Once again, homo sapiens had wronged homo superior. But this time it was their own downfall. Of course, Erik enjoyed good irony but not when it came at the expense of his own people.

                “I have to believe there are others out there,” Armando said quietly. His voice was desperate, laced with pain. Erik understood. If his ability was like that of his counterpart, he would adapt to the zombie virus, living through even the infectious airborne strains. The weight of that burden must be too much to bear, Erik thought. He didn’t want to ask, of course. He didn’t want to pry. Some mutants were secretive and in his time, that was of the utmost importance.

                “We’re here,” Alex said. Erik glanced up and down the tall, sturdy wall. He could barely see his reflection in the murky metal, rusted as it was with time and lack of care. A ladder lowered and Erik gave it a skeptical look. The ladder scaled the walls which had to be more than 4 stories high.

                “I’m not climbing that,” Erik said. He was strong but that seemed like a needlessly tedious task.

                “Then enjoy being eaten,” Alex quipped. He had begun to climb.

                Erik shook his head and lifted his arms, stretching his power out to the magnetic pull of the earth. He lifted himself on its invisible waves and floated above the wall. There was a collection of gasps and then a light, feathery voice rose from the lookout on the wall.

                “Well, didn’t you just fabulous your way over that wall?” The voice was yet again familiar and that snark had Erik letting out a laugh. He landed next to the blond woman. She was petite, clad in all white. She gave him a calculated smile. “Hello, sugar. You’re going to have to sleep now.”

                Before Erik could question that statement, he could feel his consciousness slipping, his eyes closing and mind shutting down. The Emma twin clearly had at least part of the other’s power. Erik collapsed in a heap at her feet, his eyes rolling back into his head.

 

                Behind Erik’s eyes, a bright red light flickered. He brought a hand up to shield his eyes and heard a clink, feeling the hum of familiar metal around his wrist. He could almost laugh at the very notion of someone chaining someone like Erik but felt as though perhaps a mirthful laugh would not be entirely appropriate at this current moment in time. He slowly opened his eyes and saw a small phoenix burning brightly in the corner. It lit the room with its fiery feathers. The beast crowed softly, head cocking from side to side before it finally faded and Erik was alone. His heart hammered against his ribs as he stared at the place where the beast had faded from.

                Charles was there.

                His hair was longer, a ginger beard growing on his chin. He looked haggard and sat in a wheel chair. Erik recognized it as the first one he had designed. It was worn and dusty as though Charles had grabbed it out of a closet after years of disuse. Charles seemed to be deep in thought, staring off into the distance. Erik felt his breath hitch, hearing the noise echo on the decaying walls.

                “Charles,” Erik whispered. This seemed different from his last dream. Charles wasn’t radiating love but rather felt distant, cold. His eyes were calculating, fixed on a single point. When he noticed that Erik’s eyes were open he smiled gently, the smile not extending to his eyes.

                “My friend,” Charles said in a soothing voice. His expression lightened further and finally his eyes were smiling familiarly. Erik smiled back, his eyes crinkling and tears brimming over.

                “Charles,” Erik gasped, choking on his tears.

                “My old friend,” Charles said as he rose from his chair. Erik frowned. Another dream.

                “I’ve missed you, Charles,” Erik murmured as Charles climbed onto the bed Erik was chained to. The springs creaked beneath the combined weight and the sound was music to Erik’s ears.

                “I never left, my love,” Charles murmured before laying a chaste kiss on Erik’s chapped lips. “These people need you, Erik. Will you help them?”

                Erik groaned and shook his head, placing it on Charles’ shoulder. “I don’t want to. Can I stay like this, Charles? Forever in your arms?”

                Charles laughed lightly and began to place kisses along Erik’s jaw. “Only when you’ve freed them, Erik. You must free them.” Erik nodded, not knowing what Charles meant but not arguing. Erik claimed Charles’ lips, kissing him chastely at first the licking at his lips, begging for entrance. Charles chuckled and granted him access, moaning as Erik sucked on his tongue, thrusting his own into his mouth.

                Erik plundered his mouth, relishing in the feel of him, the taste of him. Erik could feel Charles stiffen against him, his breath coming in gasps as he continued to be devoured by Erik. He pulled away and all Erik could do was whine, attempting to grab at Charles but being hindered by the chains. He reached out to release them only to have Charles place a hand on his chest.

                “Don’t, love” Charles whispered, breath haggard and catching in his lungs. “Let me…”

                A shriek resounded through the halls and Charles’ head shot up, his face flushed. “Erik, you must wake up.”

                “No!” Erik cried, struggling against his bonds, reaching for them with his ability and attempting to wrench them from his hands. He wanted to feel Charles’ heat around him, love him, and never leave this place.

                “Wake up, Erik,” Charles repeated.

                Erik cried out and awoke, eyes snapping open. His powers lashed out and just as he had been in the dream, Erik was chained to a bed. Also as he had been doing in the dream, Erik was removing his chains. His power stripped the cuffs from his wrists, flinging them across the room, embedding them in the wall. The door began to tremble on its hinges, creaking dangerously.

                _Calm your mind,_ Erik heard from deep within. He was now convinced that Charles was the incarnation of his conscience. Erik took a deep breath and relaxed. His shoulders shook with the release of tension. He clenched and unclenched his fists, attempting to relax further.

                “Calm down, Sugar. You’re safe in here. That was just a precaution,” a light voice said from behind a window. Erik took in his surroundings for the first time, realizing he was in a hospital room. Possibly a surgery theatre. The walls were covered in mold and mildew, cracks lining the ceiling and extending into the floors. The white of the walls had faded into more of a deep, dingy gray and the medical equipment resembled something out of a horror film.

                “I don’t enjoy being chained, Emma,” Erik growled.

                There was an extended period of silence followed by a tense, “How did you know my name?”

                “Lucky guess?” Erik said. The Emma-twin pursed her lips and cocked her head.

                “I’m not dumb. I can pull that information from your head if I chose to,” Emma snapped.

                Erik stood from the bead, bare feet crunching on loose stucco and tiles. He examined his surroundings further and then calmly opened the door, walking from the surgery. There was a squeak of fear as someone shifted in the shadows.

                “The door was bolted!” came a muffled shout. The corridor leading to the theatre was in no better condition than the theatre itself. The lights flickered and the air was stale, full of death. There was a distant sound of panic that made Erik sigh. He sauntered into the viewing room and sat in front of Emma, whose expression remained impassive. He gestured absently at his head, inviting her to read his mind. Apprehensively, Emma reached out and touched Erik’s mind, pulling back with a cry and gasp.

                “The phoenix protects your mind,” Emma’s voice expressed mild interest though her eyes betrayed her. She was shocked and in awe of what she had seen.

                “The phoenix protects us in our little colony, watches us,” Emma explained. “If she is blocking me from reading you, you must hold some sort of importance. Who are you, Erik?”

              Erik shifted, his shoulders held stiff as he spoke, “I am Erik Lehnsherr and some time ago, I was known as Magneto.”

                As if to prove that he was who he said he was, Erik reached out and bent the file cabinet in on itself. Emma stood, for the first time her face showing her emotions. Her cool features were filled with rage, respect, fear and admiration mixed together into a contortion that made her look rather frightened.

                “That’s impossible,” she said as she stumbled back, toppling a chair. “Magneto went missing in 2004. Even if he was still alive, he would be ancient, easily over 100 years old.”

                Erik merely shrugged. “I tried to have you read me. Clearly the one who is preventing me from returning to my time is the one who also brought me here.”

                Before Emma could say anything else, a shay voice called from down the hall.

                “They’ve breached the wall!”

                Emma whipped around, shifting into her diamond form. Erik ran down the hall and heard the soft clink of her following. He reached a balcony and could see the hole that had been punched in the wall. He reached out, flinging a metal plate back onto the wall, grasping at any metal scrap he could find to reinforce the wall. That didn’t stop those who had already entered from attempting to attack, however, and they began lunging at those who worked to kill them. Erik continued to reinforce the wall as he sent additional bits of metal flying towards those shambling undead, rending their heads from their bodies. There had only been maybe twenty undead who had breached the wall but by the time Erik was done, there was merely a pile of corpses. He continued to reinforce the wall as Emma called out commands from her perch.

                “Burn them now, John. Send an advisory for all citizens to wear masks to prevent possibly infection. I’ll project what I can.” She turned to Erik. “Can you create a crematorium or something? Prevent the smoke from spreading?”

                Erik nodded, creating a makeshift shelter from old car parts and steel. He added a chimney that allowed the smoke to escape slowly, extending the funnel over the wall. Another familiar face held forth a lighter and clicked it, shooting the flames forward from his lighter. The smell of burning, rotted flesh filled the air but Erik closed the opening that had allowed the fire in, cutting off the worst of the smell. He had created a mini crematorium and the thought sent disgusted shivers down his spine. He gazed at his creation and found himself comparing it to the crematoriums he had seen as a child. A tear slipped down his cheek as Erik looked down at the tattoo that was permanently branded into his arm. He wasn’t at all like those who had imprisoned him. These people were already dead and it was the humans who had caused them to rise again and attack. He clenched his fist and glanced back up toward the huddled masses at his feet. If he was trapped here, he would do what he could to help these people. Free them.

                Emma was silent behind Erik, merely watching him. When she finally spoke again, it was distant and thoughtful. “I think it’s time you met the Mayor, Erik.”


	4. In which Erik meets the Mayor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long hiatus there, guys. I've had a lot of personal shit going on plus one BITCH of a writers block. I HAVE EVERYTHING LAID OUT FOR ME AND I'M JUST DERPING ALONG! 
> 
> Sorry...

                Erik couldn’t hear Emma when she said that. He was deep in thought. He stroked absently the tattoo. His mind wandered from his time to this time and back again. He needed to help these people to get back to Charles. He couldn’t help these people if it meant carting corpses into a crematorium. What he had created he created using the construct the Nazis had used. The furnace that burned the undead mutant kind looked like the furnace his friends entered. His parents. His loved ones. He knew it. Erik had constructed that which he knew best and once again he felt that pain in his chest. His heart hurt as it beat. The pressure radiated and stabbed and he grasped hard at his wrist, wishing he could erase the tattoo as well as the pain that it brought. That he brought.

                “Erik,” Emma pressed, touching him gently. She stroked his arm. “It’s time you meet our mayor. Come, sugar.”

                Erik didn’t acknowledge her invitation. He merely began to follow her, grasping at the hand that was offered. It almost appeared as though Emma was leading a child. Erik kept his head down, lost in his thoughts. His eyes were dark and distant. He almost radiated sadness. Those that passed the two of them gave them a wide berth.

                “Sugar, you’re scaring the children,” Emma said quietly. It wasn’t untrue. Erik’s morose mood had caused the children in the area to begin to cry, fidget and generally fuss. Those who were empaths got the worst of it, shrieking in their parents arms or on their stoops. The adult empaths merely clutched their chests. The weight of his feelings, the weight of his guilt and accumulative conscience about his past actions crushed.

                “I…I don’t know if I can be of any help,” Erik murmured. Emma gave him a small smile and continued to lead him through the streets. Before Erik knew it, they were on Chambers. He attempted to take his hand back but Emma grasped it tighter.

                “No, sugar. We need you. We’re almost there anyway. Not even a block left,” her voice was tight. Controlled. She didn’t want to be going to see the Mayor, Erik could tell. The feeling was mutual. He wanted to save these people but the only way he could think of was releasing them from this world. Watching them burn in a pyre like the corpses in the crematorium. He couldn’t kill billions of mutant zombies. They were his brethren. Dead or alive, they were his kin.

                As they rounded Center onto City Hall Park, Erik felt his gut tighten. Apprehension was a new emotion and not entirely welcome. He took a deep breath, looking at the cold gray steps before him. He stopped short, tugging Emma back to him. This was overwhelming. He had stood before these steps with Charles beside him. He had stood before the court house as well. The thought that he was visiting without his enemy, his friend, his lover… well, it brought him more into reality.

                “C’mon, sugar,” Emma said, tugging Erik. Erik followed willingly.

                The doors opened to the nicest building left standing. The building surrounding this were decrepit, pealing and collapsing. The marble of the lobby almost sparkled with how well kept it was. The wood of the desks and the stairs was freshly finished. It seemed almost unfair to Erik that this “Mayor” lived in such luxury while the mutants who sought haven here suffered. He kept himself at bay and silently took his hand back from Emma.

                “I’m not a child, Emma. I don’t need to be lead.”

                “Uh-huh, sure,” she said, giving Erik almost a sarcastic smile. Emma-clone was much like the Emma of his time. He couldn’t help but let a smile creep onto his own face. He knew he had been childish. Moping is new to him.

                Erik’s steps echoed on the vaulted ceilings, Emma’s heels clacking beside him. She motioned him up the right staircase and through two dark wood doors. Those too were freshly varnished and still smelled strongly. Erik crinkled his nose at the smell as well as the overwhelming smell of carpet cleaner in the office. The large rug that had recently been clean was full of deep colors and patterns and was over dark wood floors. It was lavish and not needed. Erik didn’t know this Mayor but the more he saw of this building, the less he liked him.

                “Emma, who have you brought me this time?” Erik heard echo from up above. He almost laughed at how familiar this voice was. So unlike the original.

                A blue hulk dropped from the ceiling in front of him, rising to meet his height. The beast smiled, teeth poking through his lips. To another, this action would appear menacing. But to Erik, this was familiar. It is hard to appear friendly when you look like a blue monster.

                “Hank, this is Erik. Erik, Hank,” Emma said stiffly. She then turned and left, her shoes clacking on the marble. “I leave him in your care.”

                “She is not too fond of me, that girl,” Hank laughed.

                _I can’t imagine why,_ Erik thought sarcastically, trying not to roll his eyes but failing miserably.

                “Well then. Erik,” Hank said through his fangs, noticing Erik’s eye roll. “Why have you graced me with your presence?”

                Erik studied the hulking figure of the Hank-clone. He was on the defensive, the muscles in his arms tensed. Ready. “Well, Hank,” Erik made sure not to use this man’s assumed title. “Emma seemed to think I could help with your Zombie problem. I’m not sure how.”

                “Oh?” Hank laughed. “I don’t see what you can do that those who reside here have not already tried. What is your power, Erik?”

                Erik sucked at his teeth, controlling himself even as he felt his power reach out and touch every piece of metal in the room, acquainting himself with all weapons within his arsenal.

                “I am the Master of Magnetism,” Erik said in a booming voice. “I can control all metal and bend even the pull of the Earth to my will. I can help these people however I am able.”

                Hank merely stared at Erik, neither impressed nor uncaring. He was studying the man before him. “There was one before who claimed that title. His name was also Erik. He went missing some time ago, however. And his actions led to this travesty. I would not recommend you use that title so easily here, friend. It could lead to some trouble. Were it not for him, our people would not have been decimated. We would not be walking dead. We would be alive, thriving. LIVING!”

                “Were it not for Erik Lehnsherr, you would have all died out _long_ before they developed that vaccine and you should know that, Hank. Living in your lavish palace, what have you done for your people? How have you helped them get through seeing their loved ones rise and attempt to eat them? I see that your throne room is spotless but what of your citizens? They waste away as you grow old and fat with your riches,” Erik felt his veins popping. His face was flushed from his yelling.

                “Had Erik not done what he did, mutant kind would be less well off than it is now. Had he not created what he had, you wouldn’t even be alive. You would be a thought, a wish. Nothing more than the imaginings of some lonely child. Erik and Charles Xavier worked for your future.”

                “Oh, don’t even get me started on Xavier,” Hank laughed harshly, moving from Erik and clawing through the carpet. He moved to a heavy desk and jumped over it, sitting in the massive red chair behind it. “Xavier failed to stop Erik so many times. He failed us.”

                “You speak as though you were there, Hank. As if you know what happened,” Erik growled. This couldn’t be the same hank. He would be well over 100 by now.

                “Oh, if only you knew,” Hank mused. “Erik, when I took Mystique’s blood and used it in that syrum, I infused myself with her genes.”

                Erik stood still. This couldn’t be. Of all the people to survive…

                “Erik, when you went missing, we all thought…hoped, you had died. That this problem would go away. The world governments were finally siding with us. We finally… _finally_ had someone on our side. Then the Americans developed their _cure_. Created it to combat you. A force that hadn’t existed for nearly two decades. The mere _memory_ of your actions doomed us. If you had died that day with Charles, it would have been better. No waiting. No hiding. They would have known where you were. They would have let us _live!”_ The Hank-clone was no clone. This was Hank. The same as he had been when Erik had forced him from the mansion after he had helped him live through that heart attack. If he was the same, though…

                “The others…” Erik nearly choked out.

                “Not the originals. Eerie copies,” Hank replied. “The others died long ago. Mystique as well. Gone. I am alone. The only X-man left. Well…” Hank sneered at Erik. “Now we have you.”  

                Erik felt the world sway around him. He couldn’t stand. His vision spun around him and the mere motion of his body falling forward made his bowels wretch. He vomited on the floor, splattering the clean rug. His vision continued to spin and he rolled to the side. This was too much.

                “Is that form weak, Erik?” Hank sneered. “I am curious as to how you became younger. Did you finally get your machine to work? You went the wrong way.”

                Erik held the sides of his head, willing his equilibrium to rebalance itself. He groaned and rolled further away from his sick. “I don’t know how I became like this, Hank. This is too much…too much.”

                “Oh? Too much to handle knowing that you doomed the species you fought so hard to help? Or too much that I survived when your _Charles_ died such an ungraceful death,” Hank was behaving like Erik had never seen him. Finally, the vertigo passed and Erik shakily lifted himself to his knees.

                “Hank,” he gasped out, wiping his mouth. “Why say this now? Why not when we buried Charles? Why not let me die!”

                Hank looked down, his clean, well kept fur dropping over his eyes. “I had hope then,” Hank said. “I don’t have that hope any longer.”

                Erik studied Hank for some time. “What happened to you? Why let these people fall to ruin?”

                Hank said nothing. He merely stood from his chair and walked over to where Erik sat on his knees. He balled his hand into a fist and drew back. Erik closed his eyes and clenched his jaws, readying himself for the impending blow. It never came. When Erik finally opened his eyes, Hank was crying. His tears matted into his fur.

                “I’ve lived for so long, Erik. So long. These people needed me and I did what I could. The king, though. The king commands and I obey. I cannot disobey him. The orders pound into my mind. He controls me. Erik. Help us,” Hank’s voice was thick with emotion. Erik could barely understand him.

                “The king…I thought he was a myth. That’s what I was told,” Erik said, getting to his feet slowly. Hank backed away. His eyes darted across the room.

                “I tell the citizens he is a myth so that they can live happy. So that they can live some semblance of a life. Erik, he can control people. Their minds. He’s like Charles if Charles had been more like you.”

                Erik tried not to take offense. He knew Hank probably didn’t mean anything by it, but that statement grated on his nerves somehow. If Charles had been more like Erik, perhaps Genosha would have succeeded, perhaps a lot of things would have succeeded. Or, perhaps if Erik had been more like Charles, peace could have happened. There were too many different futures based on choices that had been made and could be made. Too many variables.

                “You let him control you?” Erik asked.

                “No! Never,” Hank growled, hackles raised. “I protect my people.”

                “Mr. Mayor, this mission is burning. Those zombies are marching on your city hall while your people huddle at your door step, cold, frightened because you’re all they’ve got. This world is bleeding, burning while you sit in luxury.”

                Shrieks sounded outside. As if to prove Erik’s point, an alarm sounded. A voice spoke loudly, clearly through the air.

                “The walls have been breached on all sides. Head to City Hall.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out Ludo's Broken Bride soundtrack.


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